


Whumptober 2020 - Oumasai

by andime



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mastermind Saihara Shuichi, POV Saihara Shuichi, School, Self-Harm, Suicide, Violent Thoughts, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andime/pseuds/andime
Summary: Oumasai, angsty oneshots for Whumptober 2020.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Day One Triggers- Kidnapping, implied death, implied eating disorders, knife, violence, psychological horror.

Kokichi Ouma woke up to a sharp pain in his wrists, ankles, and a sort of breathlessness that can only come forth in dangerous, terrifying situations. A situation that only your subconscious can identify as being such; which, really, to a boy reliant on his own resources was absolute torture in and of itself. It was for a simple reason, not one overly complicated - he simply didn’t trust others. He had no way of knowing or telling when somebody was dangerous, seething with malcontent, or actually helpful and genuine. Most people were neutral towards Ouma, bothered by the behavior of the mask he put up years ago, that he had began to lose control of over time; it had become it’s own person, the only one known as Kokichi Ouma. The one behind the mask.. he wasn’t even sure what to call himself. Definitely not Kokichi.  
But was he important enough anymore to even warrant a name?

Fortunately for him, those thoughts weren’t on his mind as his eyelids fluttered open. He was much too preoccupied with the sight before him, the source of the pain; ropes, rough and scratchy, holding him in place. In addition to that, he had a collar around his neck, put on far too tight. Seemingly another reason for the breathlessness. He felt like he was being choked, mercilessly strangled with each hitched breath he took. The boy did his best to identify his surroundings, but no luck; everything seemed to be only a shadow, a shell of their identity in the light. There was one thing, at least, that he could identify.. a humanoid shadow, stretching across the cement floor, leading to a silhouette that he couldn’t quite identify, and a sort that didn’t seem to speak audibly at first. Only hushed whispers to oneself, as it slowly walked towards the window, opening the blinds.  
It took a minute for his brain to register everything, the overwhelming truth looking him in the eyes unlike what he would’ve ever expected. The dark, teal hair, the amber eyes only amplified by the shining moonlight, and the dramatic eyeliner only darkening the overall expressions. Just as the room had changed in the dark, Shuichi Saihara had changed as well, most notably his smile Among everyone else, their peers, his smile was as sweet and.. was thought to be genuine, even by Kokichi. But here, it seemed to represent everything Ouma loathed about humanity as a whole, the sheer pleasure of knowing Kokichi was in pain reflecting as clear as the sky to the ocean. It shook Ouma to his very core, seeing someone he so deeply admired being someone completely different

At least, he had a couple answers now. It was Shuichi who put him here, which by itself was too much for the boy to process. He was malnourished, dehydrated to the point where he could tell without looking. It probably didn’t help that Ouma made a habit out of not joining the others for mealtimes, this preexisted but definitely came more to fruition after Gonta had died. By his hand.. at least, metaphorically. He had been the sole orchestrator of the entire plot, and.. he had done perfectly, as his talent would have you believe. It’s like if the conductor of a symphony suddenly dropped the baton, and it all turned to chaos at once. Obviously, anyone with even so much of a lick of sense in the audience would blame the conductor, Kokichi, in full and grow to resent him. The mental and emotional consequences were doubled, no, tripled because of the extra cost; an innocent life had been taken once Kokichi tugged on the puppet strings.

And at first, that was his assumption for why Shuichi had brought him here, a reasonable explanation for what was happening. He could hear a giggle escape from the detective, a step echoing throughout the room as the other boy kneeled in front of him, the grin present even still. Kokichi shot a glance towards the ornate silver tray next to him, upon it were gleaming blades of the same material, but differentiating from one other from the size, texture, sharpness. Even as somebody that had never gripped one aggressively, he knew the ones that weren’t as sharp didn’t necessarily mean less pain. A slow, sawing motion would bring just as much agony, and double the horror, certainly. For the first time since arriving at this academy, Kokichi was the one out of the two that was desperately unable to make eye contact, because evidently the avoidance of eye contact up until this point had been but a facade as well, as the amber bored into amethyst. Then, the first words spoken between them, strung with the first interwoven truth; Kokichis fear and denial, and Shuichis.. well.. this. “Look me in the eyes. Ouma.” This was clearly an order, followed by a scoff.  
Kokichi felt like he had no choice but to obey in full, and after his eyes darted around for a moment more he finally looked back at him, shuddering both from unease and the distinct feeling of a large bug crawling on his back where the corset-like tie had been loosened. “Good job.” Shuichi said, clearly not meaning it. And in a way and for a reason Kokichi didn’t know, the other boy was heavily dissatisfied; he could see it in the eyes he now loathed so much. “So.. do you know why you’re here?” Kokichi shook his head, but the dissatisfaction only intensified either way.

“It’s not because of Gokuhara. Essentially, the audience thinks you’re too interesting, and I can’t just throw you awake like I can the others. They’re having a class trial right now. Overall, this season has some of the most shitty reviews as far as writing and action goes, so I purposely made an unsolveable murder.” Shuichi explained, and if his face was any sign he seemed awfully proud of himself for what he had done; it disgusted Ouma. Although, he was confused, and evidently Shuichi noticed as he was soon treated to an in-depth explanation as to what Danganronpa truly was, it’s origins going as far back as Junko Enoshima. And.. that he was the mastermind.  
It took a moment for Ouma to process it, but he wasn’t afforded the peace of thought as he felt the dagger scrape against the platter as it was picked up, and then the chill against his back as it was pressed against his back, another cross untied on his shirt. Next, Kokichi heard a loud scream, and soon recognized it.

It was his own. He could feel the warmth trickle down his back, and then a gush as the knife was completely jerked upwards, slicing his flesh cleanly. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t-

And he passes out, no longer having any defenses. Mentally, nor physically.


	2. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate prompt- falling
> 
> TW- suicide, self harm, implied child abuse

The air was thin up here, as if Shuichi needed to be even more breathless as he stood on the roof. He looked out upon the grass, the cherry blossom trees dotting the school grounds. Just what he was looking for.. or rather, what he was praying wasn’t there. He couldn’t see any of the other students milling around, fortunately for Shuichi. Now was the time, wasn’t it..? The boy rarely smiled anymore, but couldn’t stop the smirk from spreading on his lips. Weeks upon weeks of planning.. he was well aware the majority of people did this on the spur of the moment, maybe a day or two at most of forethought before making the jump. Shuichi had always been a thorough person as far as taking action went, able to adjust to almost every scenario that could possibly come up. That was, really, why he had been an honorary detective since age eleven.

And that was when the pressure to be perfect had begun mounting, little by little. He was at least able to pinpoint the start. One day, he had been reading in the study when his uncle came in, yelling and screaming at him for being ‘lazy’ and not working on his most recent case. This had been only a couple of weeks since he had solved his first, the next one even more complex. Needless to say, the bluenette had both gained a scar that day and a horrible habit as a workaholic. For the years after, he had been metaphorically shackled to his desk, bound by the desire to not disappoint those he was convinced loved him. Every time he did so much as hesitate to go back into his room after breakfast, he was given a harsh, world-shattering glare. While it may not affect others as much as it did him, it hurt more than the ever-growing mosaic of scars on his wrists.

All of those decisions, to sacrifice the dying years of his childhood to solve grisly crimes that were far too much for someone his age to handle, led him to this point. He couldn’t look anyone in the eyes, he had convinced himself that nobody cared, and truly wouldn’t be all that shocked if someone he knew was plotting to kill him, not surprised in the slightest. His paranoia had taken control of him behind the scenes, causing him to make more irrational decisions over time to protect himself from an evil that wasn’t even there.   
That was actually one of his motivations for taking his own life that day; he didn’t know who or what was after him, but he wouldn’t let them win.

Shuichi climbed the short fence, swinging his legs over it before standing on the edge. He couldn’t stop the small bit of fear from rising in his gut; purely instinctual, he had already reached his decision. To back out now would simply be cowardly, and Shuichi resolved to not let anyone ever think of him like that again. He had a sort of delusion, that jumping would disprove everything nasty people had ever said about him. At this point.. the detective was absolutely desperate for a quick resolution to his horror story.   
-  
Soon enough, Kokichi had went up onto the roof to eat lunch; one thing Shuichi hadn’t accounted for was students coming onto the roof, because it wasn’t really a habit any of them had… Kokichi was going up there for a very specific reason. He had taken notice that Shuichi seemed to be up there every single day, and each he just assumed he preferred eating lunch alone. He honestly felt a bit bad for intruding, forcing a cheeky smile as he looked around for him.. and then promptly feeling his heart stop as he saw the shoes near the fence, the boys silhouette. He recognized the sweater he had on over his uniform, a navy blue color. Kokichi saw Shuichi take off the hat, and throw it on top of the shoes right before he noticed Kokichis presence, his ever so familiar amber eyes widening.

Kokichi felt like time went in slow motion, as he threw the love letter on the ground and broke into a sprint, trying to get to the fence in time as he saw Shuichi step off.. he closed his eyes for a split second, and closed his arms about what he thought was Shuichi in the darkness. He wasn’t met with warmth, only air as he toppled forward almost falling down as well. The only thing echoing through his mind, above the fear, panic, tragedy..

Was a grisly crack.


End file.
